Distorted
by Scorned Scarlet
Summary: She cannot keep herself away, no matter how hard she tries. He cannot force himself to stop. In each other, they find solace, reprieve, and trust. What happens when Hermione's distorted dreams are more than just that?


It must have been the fourth, or perhaps fifth time this term, that Hermione had caught herself wandering aimlessly around the castle. It was quite unusual, especially for her, to wander away from her normal patrolling routes. Some would say it was because she was worried about her NEWTs next year, or maybe she was thinking about that Weasley boy she had been caught staring at as of late, but they're quite wrong.

No, Hermione's mind hadn't been on her 'upcoming' examinations, or on her 'maybe-more-than-friend' Ron Weasley; no, her mind had been on her recently periodic dreams. She had no clue what they meant; not that she believed in that drivel Sybill Trelawney had preached in third year about 'the deeper significance of dreams,' but she did have a feeling that this particular dream was more than it led on to be. What could her mind be trying to tell her? Was it about Harry? The upcoming and inevitable confrontation with Voldemort and his followers? She had made a note to read up on the meanings behind the smaller details in her dream; secretly, of course. She had made a big deal about how adverse she was to Seeing.

As it were, Hermione would wander around the castle during patrols, and even past curfew on some days. It was becoming somewhat of an issue. It certainly wouldn't look too great for her to be caught by anyone after hours, especially as a prefect.

As she strolled the silent castle alone, she pulled her school cloak tighter around her shivering body. As October came into picture, the stone walls of Hogwarts did little to insulate the bitter cold. She wondered if anyone had bothered to try a heating charm on the school, and if not, what was the hold up? Surely with the magnitude of bright young witches and wizards that have wandered these halls just as she has, someone would think to come up with something.

She fell into an easy pace, her hard sole shoes clicking on the stone floor with each step she took, echoing in the vacant corridor. Light seeped in through the long floor to ceiling windows that lined the left side of the hall. The moon was abnormally bright this night, and the sky abnormally clear. Hardly ever were the conditions of the sky near Hogwarts this serene this time of year. She was becoming mesmerized by the imagery.

Just as Hermione stopped to admire the clear, perfection of the night sky, she felt a presence join her some way down the hall. She thought nothing of it, for it was more likely than not a ghost, or a stray familiar mulling around. It was not uncommon for them to travel freely about, so she didn't pay much attention to them. It could be, unbeknownst to her, her own familiar, Crookshanks. Merlin knows where he is half the time. She was certain this was the case until a cold, acquainted voice filled the silent void in the air.

"Miss Granger, do we make it a habit to take advantage of our authority?" Professor Snape's voice called, this time his presence was much closer than she had expected, causing Hermione to leap in surprise with a squeal. "Jumpy, are we?" His voice was dark and cynical, and she thought she may have detected a bit of sick mirth in it as well.

Pulling her cloak even tighter than before, she spun to face him, her thick, bushy hair splayed wildly across her face and back. "Sorry Professor, I was under the impression that I was alone tonight," she murmured, looking him in the eye before peaking back out at the night sky.

Snape grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, "Or perhaps that you wouldn't get caught past curfew?" he mused, now also looking to the sky, though it hardly held his interest as much as it held hers. Something about it had captured both brilliant minds and perhaps the calming night had made the two of them more civil than they would be under normal circumstances.

Hermione shrugged and looked back to him, pulling her eyes away from the window for a brief moment. "Perhaps a bit of both, I suppose. Usually I don't get caught, and usually I'm alone. I hadn't intended for tonight to be much different," she said, not bothering to lie; what was there to lie about? That the time had slipped her mind? She would come across like a fool, and that was an adjective she never liked being placed upon herself.

"So breaking the rules is a common occurrence, then?" he asked with a sneer both on his face and in his resounding voice. "Somehow I'm not surprised. Twenty-five points from Gryffindor. I have half a mind to assign you a weeks' worth of detention, Miss Granger. Count yourself lucky I don't particularly like you," he growled out, sneering down his hooked nose at her.

Without thinking much about it, Hermione scoffed and shook her head indigently. "I suppose, then, the whole school should count itself lucky." It wasn't until Snape's eyes narrowed and the words that had escaped her lips had replayed in her head that she realized how openly rude and disrespectful she had been. Her eyes widened and she shook her head quickly. "I mean, well, that is to say-"

Snape snarled with a dark look upon his face. "It should also go to say that I am not one bit surprised that a Gryffindor would find such cheek to be acceptable. Make that fifty points, and detention in my office for the rest of this week," he bit out in a staccato-like speech. His brow was lowered and his eyes pierced through the darkness and glared into her own.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Something told her that if she spoke anymore that things would only get worse. So, instead of retorting, she simply said, "Yes, sir."

With a huff, Snape turned dramatically on his heel and began striding away. At the end of the hallway, he looked back at her and it was only then that she had realized that she had been staring far too long, transfixed by… well, she wasn't quite sure. Quickly, she turned her eyes once again to the landscape and clear sky, and she felt almost instantly calmer. She wasn't quite sure how to describe how she was feeling, or what the effect of the night sky was exactly, but the calmness it gave her was also… unnerving, in a way.

"And Miss Granger?" Professor Snape's demanding voice cut through all her contemplation instantly. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised and eyes widened, waiting for him to continue. "If you're not back in Gryffindor tower within the next fifteen minutes, there will lie a worse fate than detention for the likes of you," he glowered as he spoke. His tone wasn't as threatening as before, despite his imposing words. Hermione was almost transfixed by them.

With a nod, she forewent responding verbally and simply headed back from where she came, only to return to her dorm for another sleepless night. She couldn't sleep when the dreams kept persisting in her mind, harassing her, and forcing her down to that hall like a siren in the night. Though she knew the dreams were recurring, she did not know what they were about and she could not remember any images. Only feelings. Despair, fear, hopelessness, and, on a strange twinge, happiness in all the madness. She only knew that every night, she ended up in the same hall.

* * *

Despite Snape's threat and warning, she knew she would venture out after curfew again. It wasn't a desire that she had to wander, but rather a compulsion. She needed to wander, and she could not resist the painful urge.

As she did return to her dorm room, she threw herself face down on her bed. Exhaustion overcame fear and frustration as she began slipping into a slumber. The last conscious thought on her mind was wondering what in Merlin's name was Snape doing in such a secluded part of the school, and why had he, too, turned back from where he had come.


End file.
